Chapter 244 - A Function Test

Olivia's composure faltered only briefly before she answered with a smile.

"I threw it away."

"Did you?"

"Yes."

"I see."

Ferda said nothing more. The corners of Olivia's mouth were trembling.

* * *

Ureas was dead. When Olivia heard those words, she thought: Who would handle politics for her now? Who would take the blame, run wild, and behead the men she couldn't stand? If only he hadn't grown needlessly greedy, she could have let him play emperor for a few days.

She deeply regretted losing such a useful tool. That was all. She felt no affection for her own flesh and blood.

Despite her true feelings, Olivia desperately played the part of someone devastated by the loss of her older brother, as though nothing anyone said could reach her.

["Regent Ferda has escaped the castle!"]

At those words, Olivia involuntarily raised her head. Like light breaking through an overcast sky, joy welled up before she could stop it. He had come back alive.

["Is the Regent unharmed?"]

["Not entirely. It seems he returned to camp with his right hand severed..."]

His right hand?

["His right hand was severed? Is that information reliable?"]

["Yes. An archer says he saw it with his own eyes when the Dragon Spawn maid flew off carrying Regent Ferda."]

His right hand had been severed? His right hand? Who could have done it? What had he done to deserve that? Did they have any idea what that hand meant...?

"Ah..."

Tears spilled from Olivia's eyes. Her tears had always run cold, but this time they burned. Even as she marveled inwardly that she could shed such tears, her emotions swallowed her whole.

"Aaaah!!"

Olivia began to wail at the top of her lungs.

["Y-Your Highness!?"]

Her dignity crumbled in that moment, but everyone solemnly bowed their heads with her. To anyone watching, this was a younger sister's reaction to losing her own brother. Only Olivia herself knew what had brought on those tears.

After sobbing for a long time, she composed herself and went to Ferda's tent. His hand was not as she had heard. Apparently, Odograsado's scale had restored it.

Olivia did not believe in miracles, but in that moment she was grateful for one. Over and over, she silently gave thanks for making him whole again.

["Olivia."]

Ferda had called her by her name. Not Princess, but Olivia. Her joy was short-lived.

Something was strange about his eyes. They had always been cold and resolute, but never before had they been trained on her with such piercing sharpness.

["What did you do with the handkerchief I gave you?"]

She was flustered. It was such a trivial object, one even Ferda had never cared about. Naturally, she had never thought to prepare an excuse, and she could not answer at once.

She had answered that she threw it away. Somehow, she felt she must not say she had kept it to return to him. She did not want to hear him say, "Then please return it."

Ferda had pressed her no further, as though it were nothing at all. Was that why her mind seemed to go completely blank when she left his tent?

She returned to her own tent in that state. Once she felt certain she was entirely alone, she reached into a pocket inside her skirt and took something out.

Something she kept as close to her body as her necklace of Alte. The source of this faith within her heart. A black handkerchief that, at the same time, suited her so little. She had kept it all along.

Olivia clutched the handkerchief tenderly and thought. Why had Ferda asked that question? Had this handkerchief been important? No, that couldn't be it. It was only a handkerchief. Ferda did not dwell on such trifles.

'There must be a reason for his suspicions.'

She dug for the source. A reason Ferda would suddenly ask where the handkerchief was. Their conversation, and the events that had preceded it. No matter how widely she cast her thoughts or how deeply she probed, there was only one likely cause.

'Ureas.'

Ferda had said Ureas was no longer human and had gone on a rampage.

'Could it be...?'

One possibility flashed through her mind. If Ureas had known about this handkerchief...

'It all connects.'

There seemed to be missing links, yet as she recalled things she had overlooked, everything fell neatly into place. Ferda knowing about her handkerchief. Ureas trying to kill him.

At the same time, she confronted a truth she had failed to notice—and had tried so hard to pretend she did not know.

"Ha." A hollow laugh escaped her.

"Haha..."

Her face twisted unnaturally, hatred and fury entwining with emptiness into an expression impossible to describe.

Olivia studied her reflection in the mirror. Even with such an ugly expression, she was breathtakingly beautiful.

Lashes like overhanging eaves. Skin like white jade. Small red lips that seemed to hold a cherry. A slender face. The Empire's rose, its jewel.

If there were another person like her, she would have envied that person—and gladly loved them. If even she felt that way about herself, why should her family be any different?

"You disgusting bastard..."

What spilled from her mouth was a scathing curse. Alexander had been a beast, and Ureas was one too. What flowed through her veins was not the golden bloodline, but the blood of beasts.

Olivia wondered whether she could shed even a single tear at that beast's funeral.

* * *

Ferda stepped outside and looked down at the Heinkel Kingdom spread below the ridge. A kingdom that had been dead. Now it was a heap of rubble, and large numbers of soldiers had been put to work clearing the stones.

Autumn would soon arrive. The sun beat down as though making one last desperate struggle before it came.

'I could summon clouds with magic to block the sun, but...'

Until only a few days ago, this had been a land of dark magic and Demons. All dark magic weakened under sunlight, and any undead that emerged during the clearing could be dealt with quickly. Collapsing from dehydration was therefore the safer alternative.

"Well, if it isn't Regent Ferda."

Zed's voice reached him. Come to think of it, this fellow's tent did have the best view. Ferda turned to look at him.

He was swathed in bandages from head to toe. Despite that, he casually came to stand on Ferda's right.

"I heard you got your right hand back."

"I did."

"So you won't have to live one-handed. Missing a hand is a real nuisance."

"So I discovered."

Zed acted as though nothing had happened, but Ferda knew he had been even closer to death than Ferda himself.

"Are you all right?"

"Yes, well. It wasn't too bad."

"I've already heard otherwise. They said you were at death's door."

Apparently, several priests had attended him and poured in multiple top-grade healing potions. More than once, they had said there was no hope and they should give up.

Still, it was hard to believe, looking at him now. This supposedly dying man had strolled out here and was casually scratching his head.

"Haha. I suppose I shouldn't attempt things beyond my abilities. Falling down like that—what a disgrace."

"Sir Arwen told me about that. He said you fell after him when the floor collapsed."

"Well, that's how it happened. A man supposed to protect his Regent, blundering into a trap and making such a spectacle of himself..."

"Sir Arwen said much the same."

Regret and guilt showed on Zed's face. Ferda stared straight at him.

"But I don't see it that way."

"Pardon?"

"I've concluded you went down there deliberately."

Arwen had told him:

["The human body cannot maintain the same condition forever. As one's strength wanes, one's movements inevitably grow sluggish, but Zed showed no sign of that. So... I didn't notice at all, right up until we heard you had escaped, Your Lordship."]

Zed had hovered at death's door. Arwen had been relatively unharmed. Ferda asked him again.

"Will you tell me the truth yourself?"

"..."

Zed scratched his head and answered.

"Did I ever tell you I was the son of the Red-Eye Clan's troupe leader?"

"I believe you mentioned it."

"We of the Red-Eye Clan run a traveling circus and live in the underworld. My father was both our troupe leader and an assassin of a caliber seen once in two hundred years. He understood exactly how people thought, and his skills were extraordinary."

Zed grinned.

"Do you know what it's like growing up with a genius for a father?"

"I've heard it's difficult."

"Yes. However gifted you might be, unless you surpass your father, you're merely ordinary."

Why was he bringing this up? Surely he wasn't about to discuss his conflicts with his father.

"Then someone who surpassed even him appeared as our enemy. A person who couldn't possibly have had a grudge against us defeated my father in three exchanges and slaughtered the entire clan."

"..."

"I was the guardian charged with protecting our priestess. My sister was the priestess. It was my duty to protect her to the bitter end. I knew I couldn't win, so I resolved to take the enemy down with me, at least. But I failed."

"Did you run?"

"I was blindsided. By my own sister."

"How?"

"That little minx dosed me with a tranquilizer meant for wild beasts. I couldn't even resist."

He swallowed his bitterness and continued.

"With that tiny body of hers, she stuffed me into a jar. Do you know what she said then?"

"..."

"She said, 'Live.' And so I alone survived."

Ferda had heard that was how the Red-Eye Clan had vanished.

"I was certain there were no other survivors. Everyone's bodies were still there. But there was one person I couldn't find."

"Your younger sister?"

"Yes."

"So that's why you never stopped believing she was alive."

"She is alive. I know it."

Not speculation, but conviction. Even Garnet, who had been the captain of Black Bandana, had told him there was no hope, but he remained steadfast.

He forced a smile to shake off his darkening mood.

"In any case, I wasn't good enough. If I'd somehow managed to surpass my father, at least... my sister would never have had the insolence to decide to protect me."

"Was that weighing on you when you leaped into hell to save Arwen?"

"Arwen's getting married this autumn, isn't he? He's got a son on the way, too. If he didn't even make it to the wedding, I wondered who his bride would blame most. Figured I'd be the easiest target."

"That disqualifies you as a knight."

Choosing a friend over his lord.

"So it does. I don't think I'm cut out for this."

But Ferda felt no resentment. Because of Zed's choice, Arwen was alive, and his relationship with Count Concillus would remain intact.

"Well, all I need from you is your face."

"Haha! How kind of you to say so."

Zed began to stretch, then stopped, apparently in pain.

"Anyway, I'll be off. I hardly slept last night, so I ought to wash my face."

"Go on."

Zed left, and Ferda turned his gaze back toward the royal castle. The coalition appeared to have found a body. Knights rushed over and began digging intently in that spot, flinging heavy stones aside.

'The imperial army should finish soon, too.'

He had testified that the deaths occurred near the audience chamber, so they would excavate the entire area and confirm there was nothing there. Probably all that remained was Count Ruster's head. Then they would go home.

It happened then.

CLATTER!

At the sound of something spilling, Ferda instinctively turned his head. Someone entirely unexpected came into view.

Garnet Swallow. Here as the supply commander, she was emerging with her arms full of things—from behind Zed's tent.

"..."

"..."

Their eyes met in an uncomfortable silence.

"G-Greetings, Your Lordship."

"... Yes."

"As you know, Sir Zed is in poor health, so I've been attending to him."

"I see."

Attending to him... Her appearance was a far cry from normal. Garnet was usually impeccably dressed.

Her shirt was buttoned wrong and barely hung from her shoulders, while her hair, flattened against the floor, told a decidedly different story. Ferda might know little about relations between men and women, but he wasn't blind.

'What a remarkable fellow.'

They said a man would lust after women as long as he had the strength to lift a spoon. Even with those injuries?

Apparently eager to avoid the subject, Garnet tried to steer the conversation elsewhere.

"I'm sure this is of little interest to you. I seem to have overreacted. I'll be going—"

"I'm curious."

"Pardon?"

"I said I'm curious."

Not about the sex, but about why Garnet had made this choice. Had this utterly rational, coldhearted woman been swept up in emotion?

"Well, you see..."

Garnet struggled to answer. Her dusky skin reddened visibly. Her hands fidgeted, repeatedly rising to cover her face, and her words tangled.

"I saw Zed suffering inside his tent... so I nursed him for a bit."

"I see."

"Then we naturally started remembering the old days and talked about them..."

"..."

"As you know, that womanizing bastard's body is his livelihood. I had to check him all over to make sure nothing was wrong..."

"And gave him a function test while you were at it, I take it."

"..."

Ferda cast his gaze toward Heinkel's royal castle.

"So, was everything functioning properly?"

Garnet bit her lip hard. She was so mortified she wanted to drop dead on the spot. Blood seeped from her lip. Looking as though she were drowning, she barely managed an answer.

"It was... serviceable."

So there it was.

* * *

At the ruins of Heinkel's royal castle.

"Adjutant William! The coalition has reportedly found the kings' bodies!"

It was wonderful news. Those kings were the four they had yet to find, which meant the 2nd Prince would be there too.

"Ugh, we can finally stop this crap."

"I just want to get home soon."

Their grief for their dead comrades had been brief. Now they were simply sick of the stench of corpses mingled with dust. They stretched and prepared to pull out.

"We keep working!"

William had no intention of stopping.

"What!?"

"I said that's their business. We continue our own work!"

"There's no reason to keep digging here..."

"I will hear no objections. Get to work!"

At William's order, the soldiers returned to their tasks. With their commander leading by example, they dared not argue.

William had no desire to torment his soldiers.

'Someone could be trapped under there, waiting to be freed.'

There had, in fact, been people trapped beneath the rubble, unable to escape. These people had come prepared to die. He considered it his duty to send even one more of them home.

Refusing to relinquish that hope, William kept his men working to the end. Besides, if they cursed anyone, he alone would bear it. He was willing to play that sort of villain any time.

Finally, after digging all the way down, William heard voices from within. Faint, but unmistakable. They were children's voices.